


The Heron and the Dove (full vers.)

by TRCelyne



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, White Heron Cup (Fire Emblem), Zine: Golden Dearest – A Claudeleth Zine (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27284080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRCelyne/pseuds/TRCelyne
Summary: The full version of The Heron and the Dove, because some parts didn't make it to the zine!
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Kudos: 49





	The Heron and the Dove (full vers.)

From what she had understood, it was one of Garreg Mach’s most important events, excluding the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. And considering that most of the students of the academy were from nobility and ruling families, that was pretty self explanatory.

Balls were not only for dancing, but also for socialising, creating bonds, and strengthening one’s relations and reputation. They were as strategically important as meetings and battles. What Byleth found odd but amusing was the White Heron Cup that was held on the same day. Some, like Leonie, didn’t care that much about it; for others like Hilda, it was a state affair. Claude, like herself, watched the whole thing from a distance but overall seemed entertained by the agitation.

Although she felt a bit of an outsider when it came to that matter, that did not mean that she wasn’t going to take it lightly. A contest was a contest, and she was going to make sure her house won by a landslide.

“The requirements are” she explained to the class as she hooked her knee on the corner of a free desk, half sitting on it with her arms crossed “a student who simply has a lot of charisma. Someone who can be poised and graceful and basically draw attention thanks to their dancing skills.”

Ignatz raised his hand “Can commoners also participate?”

Byleth nodded “They can. The contest is open to everyone indiscriminately. The only thing that will be taken into account for the contest will be the skill and charisma.”

“Do you know who you’re going to choose?” Lysithea enquired.

Byleth looked across her students’ faces for a couple of seconds, silently.

“I was considering asking Hilda.” She eventually said.

“Oooh, I’m flattered, Professor.” The young woman replied, obviously pleased by the idea “But as much as I like the idea, I also highly recommend Marianne.”

“Wh-what…?! N-no, I-I can’t…” Marianne stammered in surprise, her voice gradually fading into a murmur “I’m not made for these kind of things…”

“Hilda does have a point though.” Ignatz commented, causing her to turn beet red “You are elegant and graceful.”

Byleth brought her hand to her chin and tapped her lips pensively with a finger. Marianne could indeed be a good choice, since she was well educated and had delicate manners. She most likely knew how to dance. But… Well, although she was a beautiful young woman despite her slightly unkempt appearance, she lacked that spark that drew eyes on her. She spent her time making sure no one paid attention to her, anyway. It would be unfair to her to put her in such an uncomfortable situation. No, she needed someone who managed to handle being in the spotlight without a problem…

Her eyes met emerald green ones. She stared into them for slightly too long to be considered just a glance, and she would have blushed had she been more expressive. Thankfully, she wasn’t, so she simply uncrossed her arms and walked to the chalkboard.

“What about Claude?” she said.

The house leader seemed surprised “Me?”

“I suppose no one here will disagree on the fact you are the most charismatic of the Golden Deer House.” She explained.

“Professor’s right!” Raphael chimed in “If someone can do it, it’s you Claude!”

“I suppose so.” The young man admitted “Hilda, would you like to participate in the contest?”

She waved her hand with a bright smile “Nah, I’ll let you have the glory if it spares me extra classes.”

Claude shrugged “Guess I’ll do it then.”

\--

Did Claude need dancing classes? According to him, yes.

According to Byleth, no.

She didn’t need to be an expert at dancing to know that Claude was a natural at it. His agility and speed in battle had most likely a lot to do with it. He just had to learn how to be in rhythm with the music. But she had a new excuse to spend time with him besides classes, battlefields and tea time, so she didn’t complain about it.

She had grown fond of him with time. When they had first met, she had been struck by his sharp-mindedness and his sang-froid. And although she had never really looked at people before, she had learnt to pay attention to his features as they grew closer throughout the seasons.

Claude, with his malicious smile and his twinkly green eyes, had quite the effect on her. Her heart might have beat wildly at the sight of him, had she had a beating heart in the first place.

But even though she was barely older than him, there was still one thing, a barrier, a transparent veil that prevented her from reaching him: she was his teacher, and he was her student. She could not treat him differently; that was unprofessional and Rhea would not approve any of it. Seteth even less.

So for now, she kept her feelings buried under her neutral expression and hoped for them to fade or to last long enough to be reciprocated.

\--

That Sunday morning’s air was so fresh it tickled noses and cheeks. The students walked around to enjoy their free time, all wrapped up in warm scarves bearing the colors of their respective houses with cloaks or coats of various furs and wools. The sky was grey, and it would be a matter of hours before it started to snow.

Byleth’s steps grew faster on the monastery’s frosted lawns in direction of the cathedral, and she crossed her arms to keep the cold away from her hands. When she reached the stairs, she noticed her father further down, in front of her mother’s grave, exactly where she had expected to find him after finding out he wasn’t in his quarters. She climbed down and went to stand next to him, in silence.

“I suppose I am late to our morning tea.” Jeralt said without looking at her. There was some tenderness in his voice, which was always the case when he visited his late beloved’s tomb.

“You are. I assumed I’d find you there.” Byleth replied.

He smiled at her and ruffled her hair gently “Let’s go then.”

Every Sunday, Byleth and her father spent some time together for tea. Since they had settled down in Garreg Mach, she saw him less than she used to; they had got into the habit of taking just a couple of hours a week to chat. Most of the time, she told him anecdotes about her students, and he would give her advice on how to handle them, along with suggesting some fighting techniques.

“You chose Claude for the contest?” Jeralt said, pausing his hand mid-air while holding his cup of tea. His eyebrows had risen almost comically high “How come?”

Byleth shrugged ever so faintly “You must admit he fits the job perfectly. He has quite the presence, and now he’s taking dancing lessons, it’s improving even more.”

Her father hummed pensively, and drank a gulp of his beverage. When he put down the cup, he leaned on an elbow, as if he was going to share a secret with her.

“What’s going on with him, child?” He said.

“Uh?”

A faint smirk stretched his lips “I noticed you’ve grown fond of him.”

She picked her cup, unfazed “Have I?”

“You smile more when he’s around. And considering that you don’t smile often, that says a lot.”

At that, Byleth remained silent, sipped her tea, and put her cup down. Jeralt leaned back until he rested against the backrest, his arms crossed and his smile growing more mischievous.

“Ah, I know that face. I’m right.”

Byleth sighed “Dad, I’m literally a wall, what face are you even talking about?”

The man winked at her “You’re my daughter, I’ve learnt to notice the slightest change in your attitude.”

“…Please don’t interfere with it. I don’t want to cause him any trouble.”

“So you’re going to keep it to yourself?” he lifted his hands “I promise I won’t do anything, I just want to know what’s going on.”

“There… isn’t anything going on.” She said, looking down at her reflection in her beverage “It’ll pass, eventually. I can hardly ever guess what he’s thinking about most of the time.”

Her father chuckled “I’d like to say he’s infatuated with you, but I’m rather dense when it comes to observing other people.”

Byleth’s lips twitched in an attempt at smirking “And to think that deciphering my expressions helped you become more perceptive…”

Jeralt burst into laughter.

\--

The monastery’s infirmary smelled like thyme with a hint of lavender. Hilda had been wounded on the left arm during a mission, but thankfully it was not that deep. Manuela had taken care of her as soon as they had got back to Garreg Mach, and had kept her in for the night just in case. After her morning classes, Byleth had decided to go check on her student. She found her colleague busy changing the bandages on the teenager’s arm, who seemed to be fine. Both lifted their heads when she walked in.

“Ah, hello Professor.” Hilda chirped.

“Good morning, Byleth.” Manuela said with a smile, before focusing back on her work “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to check on Hilda.” The young woman replied, looking around pensively.

“As you can see, I’m more than fine!” Hilda replied with a large grin on her face.

“As long as you don’t overdo it, you will be.” Manuela added.

“Overdoing it is not part of my vocabulary, Professor Manuela.” She countered, putting her free hand on her chest with a solemn expression “I’m a calm and composed person.”

“And fervent devotee of the principle of minimum effort.” Byleth deadpanned.

“Anyway” the older woman concluded as she finished tying the clean bandages “No sparring for you this week.”

Hilda smiled wider “Great! That will give me some time to finish making the bracelet that will go with my dress for the ball. Oh, by the way Professor Manuela, what will you be wearing?”

“I have an old dress from my opera days that will perfectly do the trick.” She looked at the mercenary “What about you, Byleth?”

She shrugged “Nothing special. I’ll dress like usual.”

Hilda gasped tragically. Manuela, on the other hand, looked like she had just insulted her entire bloodline.

“You _what_?” they harrumphed in unison.

When Byleth shrugged again explaining that she wasn’t going to participate to the ball per se and simply watch from afar, she was met with such a level of drama it was almost comical. Hilda couldn’t understand how she had not planned to participate, because it was the best event of the year! Parties were the best! On the other hand, Manuela was almost offended that she had even considered going to such a social gathering while dressing up like a mercenary. It was the best opportunity to be in all her finery! They insisted and prattled for a good five minutes, until Byleth gave in and agreed to try on some of Manuela’s dresses in their free time.

\--

By the time the day of the contest came, Claude was more than ready. He literally waltzed his way inside the classroom for an entire week before, sometimes alone, sometimes with Hilda who was more than delighted to play along just for the fun of it, sometimes with Lysithea who threatened him to obliterate him as she tried to struggle out of his arms like a cat. Although he was not originally interested in the contest, he still trained very seriously and did not take it lightly.

Byleth also realised that his gaze lingered on her often while doing so, but she wasn’t sure it was true or if it was just her imagining things.

When Byleth checked her reflection in the mirror of Manuela’s room, she was not sure what to think. She had never paid attention to her appearance before. She spun left and right, watching the skirt of her halterneck dress following with her moves. The dress was black, with a plunging neckline that stopped at stomach level. A green belt was tied around her waist, while the rest of the material fell on her left hip that was in a loose bow. The skirt was floor-length and had a long slit until the middle of her thigh, exactly where the ribbon fell. The dress was covered in embroidery made with golden threads which represented ivy going up the length of the skirt. She had insisted on wearing her boots instead of a pair of Manuela’s high heels. Her fellow teacher had also tied her hair into a low ponytail with a green ribbon matching the dress.

“What do you think?” Manuela said, seemingly proud of her work.

“It looks nice.” Byleth admitted.

They went to the ball together. Manuela was wearing a white draped dress with a black and golden stole on her shoulders. Byleth held the front part of her dress so she would not accidentally step on it. The air was cold as they crossed the monastery to the reception hall, from which they could already hear music. Byleth was soon overwhelmed with lights and sounds when they walked in; all the students of the academy had gathered there, the richest wearing ornate garments and beautiful jewellery, the commoners making do with their Sunday best. Some of them were playing in an orchestra, and she recognised Dorothea singing wholeheartedly next to them. There was a large buffet along one of the walls, covered in all sorts of foods and beverages from all around Fódlan, Brigid, and even Almyra. She recognised some of her students among the crowd, as well as her father chatting with Alois in a corner of the room. She was not used to see so many people in such a closed space at once.

“Ah! Professor!”

Byleth turned around and spotted Hilda walking towards her, in a pink dress with a wide, flowy skirt. Her shoulders were showing, bringing out the garnet pendant dandling on her neck. She had let down her hair, for once. She was dragging someone behind her, and it was only when Byleth found herself face to face with Claude that she realised that Hilda had brought the house leader along.

And by the goddess, was he breathtaking.

He was wearing the house’s colors, as usual. He had tried his best to slick his hair back and traded his hoop earring for a thread earring. Golden threads were snaking on his yellow and black redingote. His eyes travelled from her lips to her waist to her legs, and then back to her eyes. If his expression remained composed, the look in his eyes sent a shiver down her back.

“You look beautiful tonight, Teach.” He said matter-of-factly.

“So do you.” Byleth replied.

Fortunately, before an awkward silence stretched between them, Seteth interrupted the background noise with two loud claps of his hands. Rhea, then made a short speech about how she was proud of hosting the White Heron Cup once more, and made way for Alois so he could host the contest like he always did. When he called the houses’ representatives and Claude was about to pass through the crowd of students, Byleth caught his pinkie with her index finger, the gesture extremely intimate yet so minor it went unnoticed by the others. He looked at their hands, then her face, and smiled confidently.

“Good luck.” She said.

He nodded in answer and left. As Byleth had expected, Dorothea was representing the Black Eagles house, while Mercedes competed for the Blue Lions. Two worthy opponents, if she had to be honest, but she had faith in him. And when they started dancing, she knew she had been right about choosing him. Claude danced like it was as innate as walking, each movement precise yet smooth and perfectly on rhythm with the music. He clearly caught everyone’s eye, outmatching the two young women without difficulty. Hilda made a comment, but Byleth didn’t really pay attention to it and only hummed.

When the music stopped, it felt like coming out of a trance. Applause rose in the room, and Alois had to clear his throat several times to get some silence. Shamir and Manuela, who were judges of the contest, easily agreed on the fact Claude’s performance was impressive. After a few sentences meant to draw out the suspense, Alois announced that his opinion matched his colleagues’, and thus that the Golden Deer House had won the White Heron Cup.

The next thing she knew, Byleth had been dragged by Hilda towards the center of the room. The rest of her students gathered as well, and Raphael tackled Claude in a strong hug with a loud laugh. Hilda did the same, wedging Byleth into the embrace and against Claude’s back. In a matter of seconds, the Golden Deer had merged in a group hug – with willing and unwilling participants – filled with congratulations and smiles. Although their proneness to make a show of themselves usually embarrassed her, Byleth had to admit that for once, it felt nice.

Being pressed against Claude’s back probably helped a lot, too.

The evening went on smoothly afterwards. Claude was congratulated here and there, first by Dorothea and Mercedes, then by Edelgard and Dimitri. Rhea and Seteth also praised his dancing skills. Byleth sought refuge near the buffet, leaning against a wall to observe the students dancing without feeling too overwhelmed by the crowd.

“Enjoying your evening?”

She looked at Claude, who was handing her a petit-four. She nodded and accepted the food.

“What about you, Claude?” Byleth replied.

“I am. I did not expect to win the cup, though. That was quite surprising.” He leaned against the wall, next to her “But it’s all thanks to you.”

She shook her head “I didn’t do anything. You did the training.”

“But you pushed me beyond my limits, and I’m thankful for that.” He leaned towards her, his voice getting lower “I also think you look magnificent tonight.”

Byleth discreetly fidgeted with the ribbon of her belt “Do you?”

“I do. This dress suits you.”

She found the strength to look at him, and even smiled a little “You look really handsome tonight as well. I’m not surprised that you won the contest, you bewitched me with that dance.”

Oh no. She had gone too far. Claude didn’t say anything, so she dared a glance towards him. The young man was blushing, his lips parted as if his words had died in his throat. Byleth gobbled up her petit-four in hope the awkwardness would fade.

“You… Really think so?” He finally muttered, then smiled shyly “That’s very nice of you, Teach. But I think you might be exaggerating.”

“I’m not.” Byleth replied with feigned confidence.

“Let’s see who’s right then.”

Claude grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the middle of the room, where other students were already waltzing, including Dimitri and Edelgard. She tried to protest, but the wink he gave her stifled the sentence before it came out of her mouth. His hand felt warm in hers. He pulled her closer, until their chests almost touched; his hand rested between her bare shoulder blades and his scent suddenly overwhelmed her sense of smell. When he took his first step in a way that indicated exactly where he wanted her to be, Byleth followed him. Although not being particularly good at waltzing herself, she knew that having a partner who knew exactly how to lead a dance allowed her to not focus on where her feet had to go.

“Well then?” Claude said in a low voice.

“I don’t know how to dance, and yet I know exactly what to do.” Byleth replied, smiling playfully at him “So that means I’m right. Your skills are unmatched.”

He leaned closer, until she felt his warm breath beneath her ear “Does that mean you’re still bewitched?”

The heavy innuendo combined with the tickling sensation his breath left on her skin made Byleth shiver from head to toe. He lazily brushed his thumb along her spine as they danced, which did not help. She was supposed to not cause him any trouble, and yet there he was, toying with her feelings in front of the entire academy. Caught in her whirling thoughts, she tripped on the length of her dress; he held her closer so she wouldn’t fall, and giggled.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You… shouldn’t do this.” Byleth commented, averting her eyes “People are going to get the wrong idea.”

He made her twirl and brought her back to him “Do what?”

“Treat me the way you do.”

He made a few steps before answering “But what if it’s the way I want to treat you?” his smile turned into a look of concern “Have I overstepped your boundaries? Please tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable in any way.”

“That’s the problem.” She replied softly, fidgeting with the collar of his redingote “You’re not making me uncomfortable. I even…” the words came out of her mouth in a whisper “…appreciate the attention.”

Claude smiled again, and was about to reply when Manuela interrupted him from the side of the dance floor. He bowed to Byleth, excusing himself, and followed the teacher; most likely to be gifted the dancer outfit, the symbol of his victory. Byleth used the opportunity to slip out of the room to get some fresh air. She needed some calm to think, and that ball was too noisy and bustling to do that. Her steps, resonating against the cold cobblestone, guided her towards the cathedral. She crossed the building and went in direction of the Goddess Tower. She rubbed her hands on her arms, cursing herself for forgetting to bring a coat, and leaned against the well to observe the tower.

“ _Well then._ ” Sothis’ voice echoed mockingly in her head “ _I don’t think that flirting openly with your students is really appropriate, isn’t it?_ ”

Byleth sighed and muttered “I wasn’t flirting.”

The young girl snickered “ _My bad, I mistook the term “bewitching” for flirting._ ”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, flustered “Sothis, please stop.”

“ _What is your problem? Watching you being in denial that you actually like that boy makes me cringe. I’m just trying to help, just… urgh, get a move on!”_

After that, she became silent. She was probably annoyed enough to go sulk in a corner of her mind. At least she wouldn’t have to put up with her complains and justify her attitude. It was already hard enough holding back. Getting a move on, like Sothis said, was not so simple. Not when she was his mentor, and he was from a ruling family. They were too different… But she liked him. It was the hard and simple truth. Maybe… maybe she had to acknowledge these feelings, instead of burying them under layers of denial. Should she… tell him? What for? Ask him to wait until he leaves the academy? Were his feelings even mutual? Byleth groaned and held her head in her hands. So much for getting some fresh air to clear her head.

Caught up in the storm going through her head, Byleth didn’t notice Claude getting closer, nor did she notice the deep breath he took to gather some courage, or how he crossed his fingers behind his back.


End file.
